2015 – 06/25 –
I decided that assembling parfaits might be fun for my mom. I brought in some pudding mix and she had a great tie with the mixer. She needed guidance at the beginning. She had forgotten how it worked. I demonstrated while she watched in rapt attention. Then I guided her hand onto it and helped with the buttons so she could mix from there. She really enjoyed it a lot.
One of the other residents was very curious and excited about what we were doing so he came over to look and it made her laugh. It was so cute. It often feels like they become children again during this disease. They keep moving backward through time. If you are able to embrace it, there are so many happy moments that result. They are unfettered by the stresses of real life. They are just living. It is simple. They are unaware of everything else. It is a wonder in so many ways.
Simplicity is essential. Getting to their level, trying to see through their eyes, not complicating the situation. These are the things that will make all the difference so that is what I focused on doing. She had a lot of challenges and this project was going to feel very much like a puzzle to her. We lined up cups together, sliced up lady fingers together, laid everything out in steps to make it easier for her. First I had her put a couple of pieces of the lady finger cubes into each cup. This took some real effort on her part. She struggled a little at the start but I patiently waited and guided her with words until she figured it out. She looked up at me with a question in her eyes after almost every cup and I smiled and reassured her that she was doing a great job. Soon she had the pound cake in all the cups and it was time for the next step.
This activity involved patterns. She had to put lady fingers in, then pudding, then fruit, then repeat until the cups were full. It took a long time but she did it. It did bring sadness that it was so hard for her to do these things when she did so much her whole life, but it also brought joy when her face would light up every time she got a layer done.
Soon the cups were all full and they looked so pretty. When I was young I remember going to special events like family gatherings after a christening. My mom would often make lemon cupcakes. She would cut the middle off and fill with lemon custard and put the top back on.
After that she would get some confectioners sugar and sift it onto the tops of the cupcakes. They ended up being both simple and pretty plus very tasty. It was a sort of signature dessert I suppose.
Today I decided to bring back a little muscle memory since she had done this so often. The tops of the parfaits were each going to be sprinkles with confectioners sugar. I brought a sifter and put four cups at a time onto a plate so she could sift the sugar onto them. She loved doing this. She was beaming the whole time. It warmed my heart so much to see her like that.
These were so much more than little parfait treats for the residents. These were a connection between my mom and I. We were bonding deeper than we ever did before she got sick. It was bittersweet.
Today I decided to bring in supplies for mini cupcakes. We used a box mix because she was having a real hard time with measuring cups. This was much easier for her to handle and she did a good job. She was so careful and focused when putting the batter in the little cups. It was good for her. It is very therapeutic to keep their manual dexterity as they progress through this disease. Having something detailed like this to do is great for dexterity. She was so happy through the whole thing. 
bakery. I knew she worked in a bakery bit never knew my grandfather did. She was telling me how she would tie bows in the boxes and would decorate the cakes out back. These were stories I had never heard. I am not sure how much of it was real but it certainly felt real as she told me. It was a gift, a glimpse into her past that I was being given. Tears came to my eyes as she went on and on about it. 
Marcos, the activities director, kept close by. I think he was having just as much fun as my mom and I were. He really enjoyed me bringing in things like this. 
Teaching her how to use the scoop was a bit of a challenge. She had always used a spoon for cookies. I told her to think of it as a big bowl of ice cream and she laughed. It worked! After I demonstrated with the first few scoops she got right down to work. After each one she would turn to me and ask, “Like this?” and I would nod and smile and tell her it was perfect. 
They did modify her meds, and over the next few days she improved. I had found a pair of her glasses when I was going through some boxes of her things. I brought them with me. She was excited to get them and put them on right away. She flipped through a magazine, picking out the words she was still able to read. She was proud of herself and I was proud of her too.
Marcos, the activities guy, was feeling especially playful this particular day and had found a sombrero somewhere. He got my mother to wear it for a picture. This was a huge thing, since my mother up to this point had refused to put anything on her head. They posed for a couple of photos together. It was a happy day and I will always remember it. These are the days it is important to hold onto. Just seeing this picture always makes me smile. I am grateful for Marcos and for all that he did for my mother. 
Today we were going to make strawberry shortcake. I sliced up strawberries at home the night before so they would be prepared. I brought some pound cake and some cool whip and some cups. 
We started out by arranging all the slices of pound cake on a sheet of parchment paper. Then I guided her as we sliced them into smaller chunks. 
Next, she helped add the pound cake pieces to the cups and added some strawberries to each one, then added the cool whip to the top. We worked side by side and I kept up a conversation with her the whole time. She got happier by the minute. She was thoroughly excited by the time she helped me pass the cups out to the residents who could eat them. I sat down with her after that and we talked a bit until she was tired. Then I told her I was going to head home but would be back the next day. She tried to come downstairs with me, which she did on a regular basis. I got in the habit of enlisting the help of the staff to distract her as I left. It was difficult but necessary. 
It was May and May is lilac season. This year my mother would be in the nursing home and unable to appreciate those magical blooms, though. It broke my heart. I ended up sneaking to my stepdad’s now vacant house and snipping some of the lilac blooms as well as a few other blooms from the yard to bring to her. It made me smile just remembering how she loved them.
We found a table a little out of the way so she wasn’t over-stimulated. She was a little confused because this was different than her normal schedule. I made it into a fun little adventure, though. I pointed out the green grass, some flowers nearby, the leaves in the trees. I pointed out the sun (even though she preferred the shade). She calmed down pretty soon and started to enjoy herself.
There was a new guy in the group of people my mother was hanging out with at the nursing home. I didn’t particularly like the guy. It felt like he had a thing for my mother. He appeared to be hitting on her on a regular and very blatant basis. My mother was oblivious to the whole thing. I was very leery and kept a real close eye on things when I was there. I brought it up to the activities guy and to the nursing staff. I felt it was only right to voice my concerns. I wanted my mother to stay safe and she was not of sound mind at this point. She had no idea this guy was making advances toward her. The staff assured me that it was fine. He was just overly friendly. They told me not to worry about it and promised that they would keep an eye on the situation when I was at work. 
I tried. I tried very hard to like the guy. I knew he also had brain issues. I tried to cut him some slack. I included him along with the others when I visited with my mom in the lounge area. I tried to make a point of conversing with him. He had gotten under my skin though and I couldn’t help my trepidation. I just did not trust the guy at all. Did I mention I was trying to keep an open mind? This went on for a while. He tried to cut in on my visits with her. He made me uncomfortable. He made passes at me. It was all just very wrong, but the staff was not handling him. It was not my place to do it. When I did chastise him it would elicit very negative responses and just make things worse. So I kept my mouth shut and observed. I was not happy at all.